The Colour of Blood
by queen-sheep
Summary: Lavender takes her nails and paints them redredred until they're stained as war paint.


_Written for QLFC S2 Semi-finals Round 1_

* * *

><p>"Honey, are you done yet?" came the insufferable tone of her father. He was hovering at her shoulder, impatiently tapping his shoe on the floor of the shop. Lavender huffed out a breath, planting her hands on her hips as she turned to face him.<p>

"Daddy, _please_," she said, rolling her eyes. "Don't rush me! This is important, you know."

"Nail polish is important," he said flatly.

"Yes," she stated firmly. "It is. _Especially _because it's my first day of Hogwarts!"

He let out a deep sigh. "I'll be over on that bench when you finish."

She waved him off and narrowed her eyes at the two bottles she was deciding between. There was the one that changed colour every couple of hours and another that was a bright, bold red.

Lavender smiled and took both.

…

She walked into the train on September 1st with her head held high, her fingers tight on her trunk. Her nails were painted with that lovely colour changing polish she had bought the other day. It shimmered as if sensing her pride in it.

Lavender swung into the first empty compartment, and waited.

It didn't take long for the door to clatter open again.

"Can we sit?" a girl asked, an identical twin behind her.

"Go ahead," Lavender beamed.

The two girls shuffled around, settling their things in the overhead compartment. Lavender took the time to casually drape her hands on her lap so it was in clear view. When they finally settle down, it was the left most girl who spoke.

"I love the colour," she beamed, nodding down at her nails. "I'm Parvati, by the way. This here is Padma."

"Lavender," she said back. She _told _him it would be important. Now she had her first friends!

…

With second year came maturity. More so than first year did. With that, she needed a new look.

"Honey, is this really necessary?" her father asked.

"_Yes_, it is," Lavender repeated. She snatched up a bottle of a shimmering meadow green and grinned triumphantly. "This is the one."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, stepping up to pay.

…

Third, fourth, fifth, sixth year steadily passed by in a blur. Her collection grew and grew until it was spilling out of the boxes she used to contain them.

But when seventh year came around, no one was in the mood for girlish things like makeup and nail art. Lavender though, kept it up, even if she'd get punishments in the dungeons for it.

"Please stop it," Parvati begged her one day, tears streaking down her face. "I don't want to see you in pain."

"They can't take this away from me," Lavender said. "We just need to wait for Harry to come back and everything will be okay."

He didn't come until May. Still, Gryffindor rallied with him, and day of the battle dawned clear.

The common room was full of hushed voices and silent crying. Lavender stood grimly by the side, leaning absently against the wall. Parvati sat beside her, hugging her legs to her chest.

Lavender spread her fingers out in front of her and examined the lavender colour of the polish she was wearing. It was

"You know, I don't think this gown and nail polish really go together," she said with pursed lips.

Parvati turned to look at her.

"This isn't a good time," she said, looking tired and scared and all kinds of exhausted.

Lavender promptly ignored her and nodded to herself. "I'm going to change it," she announced, getting up and striding to her dorm room.

It wouldn't do to go into the Battle of Hogwarts at less than her best, after all.

She examined the contents of her polish collection closely. Over the years, she had amassed quite a number them. From magical ones to muggle ones to limited edition types – she was the expert. But there weren't any that suited her at the moment.

Lavender frowned irritably at that. Surely there was _something_. Then, out of the corner of her eye: a bright, bold red.

It was new, unused. It hadn't been opened since the day she bought it. But now, it would be her war paint.

She reached for it.

…

The battle wasn't what she expected, but at the same time, it was. In one word, it was chaos. Lavender ran through the downed bodies and flying spells and charms and jinxes. Time slowed down. A life could be saved or killed in a second.

She had trained so much for this. She knew what to do. The words came unbidden to her lips. Jinxes and shields and spells flying to her lips without a moment's notice.

They couldn't, and wouldn't, be able to stop her now.

And then – she tripped.

Lavender scrabbled desperately for the balcony edge but it slipped away from her grasp. Distantly, she registered her wand dropping down to the battles below. And then she was tumbling through thin air.

She had never been much of a Quidditch fan, but she knew how to fly. This was anything but. This was falling, and there was nothing at the bottom to protect her.

Lavender struck the ground head first, the rest of her body crumpling down after; pain erupted everywhere. A tiny sob choked out from her chest, but even that was pressing down on her. Her breaths came short and she couldn't – she couldn't see anything! Why couldn't she see anything?

Before she could shout, there was _something _upon her.

"What a pretty face," came a mockingly crooning voice. She would recognize it anywhere.

Her breath hitched in her throat as blind panic swept through her.

A dirty hand stroked her face, but Lavender was paralyzed. Her body was frozen in fear and she couldn't do anything about the hot breath on her face or the tongue that traced her cheekbone.

Something different replaced it – teeth – and then she was screaming.

Her hands clawed fiercely at his back, drawing blood, staining her hands red red red. She barely heard Hermione's voice yelling a spell. She only registered the loss of body weight pressing down on her, and even then, she was too weak to move.

She was dying, she realized.

Lavender moved her hands over her stomach sluggishly. She twitched her head to see them.

They were dyed the colour of Gryffindor.


End file.
